Cat's Eye
by keep.the.hope
Summary: When Serena Lymphis is drawn to play the Eightieth Hunger Games, she knows there is no chance of coming home. But with the thought of her brother at the back of her mind, she may just find enough courage to triumph in the end. Because in a city of ruin, no one is safe. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor.
1. Words That Went Unsaid

"I might as well already be dead," I mutter bitterly as the sun and sand roll past in a flash. My family and friends neglected to wave me off, even though we weren't even allowed to say goodbye. It left me sour to the core. The darkness found its way over my heart, and now I'm an emotionless drone. The Peacekeepers tried to offer me luxuries within the train I didn't need, but I walked stormily past them straight to my over-extravagant room.

I didn't bother to listen to who my district partner is, so to me he's just another face I'll never care to know. I know how to handle this situation; it's all my father trained my brother and me to do. I know this is shameless, but I can't help but picture my father's – along with everyone else's – face when my name was drawn. Before it was announced, the citizens all held a collective breath. It was a normal Reaping in District Four – just not for me. As I ascended the stage I could hear my mother weeping endlessly. I did not once hear my brother. He was probably stunned into shock or something; we've never, ever been so far apart. It pains me to even think his name. _Tranquil._ There, I've done it. His name lingers for a little while, but it vanishes before I can dwell on it.

A knock sounds throughout the room. I've been mostly silent for the long journey to the Capitol. Maybe they think I've tried to harm myself. I haven't, but I'll let them think what they want to think. After all, it's _their_ fault I'm here. It was only a matter of time before one of the Lymphis twins was reaped. I'm not saying I'd rather it be Tranquil in this position, but I'm also not saying I enjoy being here myself. I'm terrified. But I'm also more ready than I would be if I hadn't had any training. The Capitol is beautiful and strange, and I'm excited and intrigued to be introduced to all the privileges my father kept from me. He kept a lot from me. There's not really much I can do about it now, though.

The knocking comes again, and I'm ready to yell at them to leave me the hell alone, but a dark haired girl is the one who bustles through my door. My heartbeat picks up erratically. This girl is an Avox. She can't be over the age of twenty. I can't stand to look at her as thoughts of my tongue being ripped from my mouth consume me.

"What do you want?" My voice wavers. The girl smiles sadly. She gently grabs my arm, tugging me out toward the dining room. One of the Peacekeepers – the one that tried to talk to me before – nods respectively at the Avox.

"Xandra." The Avox nods back. My eyebrows furrow. Xandra? He knows her name? I thought the Capitol treated Avoxes like voiceless slaves. Xandra quickly hurries out of the room.

"You know her name?" I query. The Peacekeeper gives a dry laugh.

"When you're stuck on a train every year, you get lonely," he tells me. I don't question him further. He doesn't seem to be finished, though. "Miss Lymphis, after supper you will be escorted to the screening room. Mr. Mitis will be joining you." He nods respectively before leaving. I assume he's going to fetch my district partner, but he didn't seem to be as stiff as he was when he was talking to me, so he could just be going somewhere to relax.

My gaze travels to the assortment of food laid out in front of me. There's so much I don't know how a person could possibly need that much food. I know I don't. I'm sure half the stuff here wouldn't appeal to me anyway. I had the choice of being picky because of who my father is. I suppose I have that choice here, too. The Capitol is so wasteful when it comes to food.

I hastily plop down in the nearest seat, trying to avoid touching any of the fragile glassware. I want to make a good impression on these people, despite my morals and everything else I stand by. And I am most likely being filmed at this very second. I'd rather not be faced with imminent death so soon, even though it's bound to happen. At first I thought I could win, that I was one up from everyone else. Then the rational part of my brain reminded me that there are kids that have been waiting for this moment their whole lives. Some people see this as a sport. I almost vomit at the thought.

My eyes settle on a warm loaf of District Four bread and some soup I am not familiar with. My mouth waters. This might be the only good thing I'll get out of this. Because of my refusal to eat meat there was rarely anything for me. My father really tried, but there was nothing he could do.

The Peacekeeper comes back, and to my surprise he brings my district partner. I knew we'd have to interact at some point, but I was kind of hoping it didn't happen so soon. The boy doesn't look at me, but it doesn't bother me. I've been ignored before. The Peacekeeper clears his throat.

"Miss Lymphis, remember what I told you. Mr. Mitis has been informed on what is to happen, and I'd appreciate if you two would obey orders. I don't want to have to punish you," he says stonily. I almost laugh. Punish us? How? I don't know what they could make us endure that would be worse than this. Instead I nod, swallowing a mouthful of bread.

The Peacekeeper leaves, and now it is just me and my district partner. He doesn't try to speak to me. I don't make an effort, either. I can't risk anything, especially my trust. We finish our meal in silence. The only sound is the clinking and clattering of silverware and plates. I want to say something just to ease the tension, but nothing comes out. I look like a fish out of water, opening and closing my mouth.

The Avox from my room – Xandra – comes to collect us after we've eaten. She pointedly avoids my gaze. I wonder why. _Maybe she's trying to protect you_. I shake the thought away. Xandra has more to worry about than another tribute. _Another victim_. I shiver. _Think happy thoughts, Serena. This is just another challenge that you will conquer._ My happy thoughts aren't so happy anymore.

Xandra gestures to take a seat on the couch. We both oblige as the screen comes alive with life. The mayor of District One appears and gives a speech we've all heard a hundred times. It's the same speech the mayor of every district gives every year. I practically have it memorized. What really catches my attention are the tributes. Brother and sister. _Twins._ It makes me think his name again. _Tranquil_. I choke down a sob. No more of the shy Serena. Now I'm the Cat's Eye. Now I'm a fighter. I don't believe it for a second.

I don't pay attention to any of the other districts, not even my own, which means I still don't know what's-his-face's name. What's the point? I'll know enough about them after their training scores are announced. I suppose the most I have to fight for is Lao. My family would be okay if I died. Even Tranquil would get over it, and he would be affected most by it. Lao is the only one that may never forget. Our relationship is more complicated than any other I have. My family loves me to an extent. They are emotionally attached, but they will be fine.

What am I doing? Counting myself out when I don't even know what the other tributes can do? That's not how I was raised. I was always taught to _fight_ for what you believe in, and I believe in my life. I believe in being given another chance. I believe in _me_, myself. I can do this. I just have to be smart about it.

Xandra takes me back to my room after the recaps. Some Avox I have not yet seen escorts my partner back to his room. I really need to learn his name. Xandra smiles as I drop lazily onto the bed. I sigh, looking back at her.

"Can you get me some paper and a pen?" I ask softly. She's out of the room in one graceful movement. Xandra peers through the door, as if I'd fallen asleep in the short time she left the room. "I'm awake," I announce, an arm draped across my face. She's startled by my sudden outburst. I sit up. "Come sit here," I order. She obliges. "What happened to you?" I tilt my head, gesturing for her to use the pen and paper. So she writes. And writes. And writes. And writes some more. The dark haired girl writes for a good ten minutes. When she's done, she hands me the paper.

_When I was about your age, I did something that upset the Capitol. I thought that we could do it again. I thought that the districts could rise up against the Capitol just as we did before. But I was wrong. My group, all descendants of District 13 soldiers, had a plan. We went district-hopping. We made ourselves blend in. And just when we thought we had them, that the Capitol would finally fall, he got us. Snow made us prisoners for I don't know how long. I didn't know what he was waiting for. He obviously wanted us dead. It might have been months. He was discreetly executing the members of my group. It didn't go unnoticed by me, though. It happened until there was just me. I was waiting for him, waiting for the torture that surely awaited. But it never came. Instead he showed up at the bars of my cell, a sinister smile plastered on his disgusting face. I'll never forget the words he spoke so icily. "And for you, my dear, you will live with the fact that many people died at your word, that you failed. You'll be my slave now. I won't let this slide, Miss Delera." Then he had my tongue extracted. The pain was excruciating. I was his personal servant for about three months. He got bored with me and sentenced me to life on a train. My guess was that it was to remind me that twenty three children were still dying each year. I'm sorry you're one of them._

I feel numb. Xandra crossed a few words out, but it was still intelligible. I place the paper down with shaky hands. "That is all," I whisper. "You can go now." Xandra quietly stands and exits the room, head downcast. That night I sleep with the paper clutched to my chest, afraid that someone would punish Xandra for what I made her do. _Curiosity killed the cat_. I never knew how true that could be.

The next morning I wake to shouting commands left and right. I silently rise from the bed, tiptoeing through the train's cars. I find the same Peacekeeper talking to Xandra in a hushed tone. She's nodding, but I don't know what they're talking about. I suppose it's something I'm not supposed to know.

"We're stopping to refuel before we reach the Capitol today. We already refueled once during the night, but I wanted a full tank to guarantee our fast and safe arrival. You're welcome to do as you please, Miss Lymphis," the Peacekeeper I've already grown accustomed to tells me. Something feels strange to me.

"Can you stop with the 'Miss Lymphis'? Just call me Serena. You shouldn't have to treat me like I'm superior to you." There. That's what was bothering me. I don't think I could take it anymore. He nodded.

"As you wish, Serena." Then he went back to murmuring to Xandra. Hours went by on the train. I had been reciting constellations for the past two hours, and it was growing a bit tedious. Constellations aren't going to help me in a fight to the death. Instead I should be reciting battle tactics. I guess my problem is I don't have any.

Xandra knocks on the door, even though I won't stop her from coming in. She's been checking on me every hour, but I don't mind. It gives me something else to think about. I'm mostly wondering what the Peacekeeper was whispering to her. It must be important if I can't hear it.

Xandra is usually just there to update me on how much longer it will take until we're in the Capitol, but this time she tells me we're pulling into the station. I happily bolt up from my awkward position. I might've gone insane if I didn't get off this train soon, even though it's likely to happen in the arena anyway.

My district partner is already waiting by the doors as they slide open. I still neglect to learn his name. It's quite rude of me, but I might not feel so bad if he doesn't know my name, which is a possibility.

The doors slide open, and my sunken eyes reflect three others'. "You're dead," I blurt out. My partner gives me a sideways look. The woman with dark hair shoves her hands over her ears, dropping the hand of a little boy. He can't yet be twelve. He looks identical to the man on the woman's other side. The man's eyes glint mischievously.

"Now, now," Finnick Odair says testily, "that's no way to treat your mentors, especially if you wish to stay alive." His voice is taunting. It's like he's asking me to come at him. He turns away for a moment to whisper something to Annie Cresta, his mad wife. My last mentor is Mags, a woman who would probably be dead anyway if she wasn't in the 75th Hunger Games.

The little boy that shares Finnick's dashing looks remains quiet. Alder Odair stares at me with his wide innocent gaze. He hasn't yet been tainted by the cruelty of the world. Finnick catches the way Alder and I are gazing at each other. A wicked grin spreads across his face.

"I know my son is quite the looker, but I'd appreciate if you would stop staring at him that way." I shoot a glare his way. It's really a shame he's probably going to be my most helpful mentor. He is the one that fought in a rebellion and died, so I'm not going to undermine him.

"Sorry," I say dryly. "I guess I'm just a little shell-shocked by all the events of today." Annie places a shaky hand on my shoulder.

"You're very beautiful," she says, changing the subject completely. I don't want to set her off again, so I take the most natural approach.

"Thank you," I tell her, though I do mean it sincerely. "You're very brave." Tears glisten in her eyes. I think mine begin to do the same, but I can't be sure. I feel all the burdens she carries reflected back in my own eyes, making the atmosphere that much heavier. She opens her mouth, and somehow I just know that she's in her right mind when she says this.

"I don't know how true that is anymore." Her voice wavers. She clears her throat, wiping away the tears. "We better get you ready to meet this year's Gamemaker. Hopefully you'll be prepared for what is to come." She pulls me forward into a hug, catching me off guard, and over her shoulder I see Finnick staring intently at the two of us, the pain I've been looking for finally showing through. He clears his throat, causing Annie to release me.

"Annie, Serena and Sicarius need to be escorted to an important welcoming. We'll see them later," Finnick says, using a different tone I sense is only used for her.

An Avox – not Xandra, sadly – takes us to an elevator, but instead of going up it goes down. I frown. When the doors slide open, I'm greeted with the dinging of eleven other elevators. Eleven pairs step out before me. I stagger after Sicarius, realizing a woman – well, more of a _girl_ – has begun speaking.

"In just under three weeks, I will be seeing one of you again. The other twenty-three will be dead and in boxes back to their districts; though I am really not one for sentiment nor am I one for giving a damn about how people think." My blood runs cold. This is the Gamemaker Annie was talking about. I'm getting the feeling she wasn't supposed to tell us about it. I blink, coming to my senses. I've already missed half of her speech. "If you want to win, you have to be prepared; both mentally and physically." I don't think she's yet told us her name. She goes on for a few more minutes, all the while introducing her assistant but never herself. Though I am blindly listening, I know she is about to conclude her speech as she takes a long pause. A sadistic smile washes over her sickeningly beautiful face.

"And I, I am Calista Alexis. I am your Head Gamemaker, and all that remains for me to say is; happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor." So this is my enemy in this game? Calista Alexis, who is barely a woman, is my main threat. Well, here's what I have to say.

_Game on. I'll play your stupid game._


	2. Secrets in the Dark

I can't sleep. I tell myself it's because of Annie's screams, but I'm not even sure I believe it myself. The few days I've been here have been nothing short of horrifying. My first full day here I got soap in my eyes from the shower. I had no idea there were so many ways you could bathe yourself. My second day I discovered that the tridents in the Training Center were much too large for my dainty form, so I had to appease myself with knives. And yesterday morning I made the mistake of picking up food I'd never had in my life. It was disgusting; I was gagging and dry heaving in the bathroom for a good ten minutes. Annie came to check on me – I decided I liked her best – and make sure I'd be ready for training that was in an hour. I was a mess yesterday. I was weak and shaky, and it was positively humiliating.

I slowly rise from the bed, unsure what I'm hoping to accomplish. I realize my room is too stuffy. I'm confined and I can't take it anymore. I'm silent as I scurry out of the room, making sure to leave my door open just a crack.

My eyes quickly adjust to the darkness around me. It's when I turn around I realize I'm not alone. Bright green eyes scrutinize me in the early hours of new day. I'm waiting for him to speak, but when he doesn't I open my mouth.

"You really should be careful of your actions," Finnick says, halting my train of thought. His statement angers me.

"Careful of my actions? Like you were when you left your wife?" I snap. He glares. All the lightness of his character fades.

"You think I wanted to leave her? I didn't even know I had a son up until a week ago!" He's manic, like the way most Victors turn out. I'm reminded that he is an experienced killer, and that he could easily decide my fate in the arena.

"I'm sorry," I apologize. I know I shouldn't have said it, but every time I look in Annie's eyes all I see is the ghost of her former self. I guess somewhere in my subconscious I blame Finnick, because if he never left _maybe_ she would be different. But I can't project my hate to someone I barely know. She was already broken before he left. I wonder what she thinks of her dead husband coming back from the grave.

"You think . . ." he falters. "You think I wanted to come back to this world? The last thing I remember is being eaten alive." He's shaking now, a hysteric laugh lodged in the back of his throat. I carefully guide him to one of the many seats in the room.

"I'm not very good with words," I confess. "That's my brother, although I'm not sure how true that is either." I give an empty laugh. "Anyway, he always told me not to dwell on the past, because you're always moving forward. Whether you like it or not, you have to keep going." Finnick stares blankly at me. I suddenly feel like I'm an adult comforting a small child. Instead I'm the child comforting an unstable adult. "My point is," I sigh, "you should focus on the positives. Think of how happy Alder must be that he finally has a father. Think of Annie. I don't know how either of you are holding up, but she finally got back the one person that kept her balanced." I smile for his sake. Slowly but surely a small smile makes an appearance on his face. He nods slowly, the same dead laugh I had minutes before escaping his lips.

"You're right. You're not very good with words." I glare. He rolls his eyes. "Anyway," he says, mimicking me, "you're also right that I should stop looking back on those awful times. I have a wife, a son, and . . . friends that care about me. I believe you're here for a reason, Serena Lymphis, and whether that is to guide broken souls out of their troubled pasts or be the most symbolic tribute I've ever seen, I won't forget you. I haven't been a mentor long, but I've never seen one that wishes so badly to live yet stay human. You, my dear, have a purpose. And I don't mean in general; I mean that you have a purpose for being here in this position." I remain silent. I'm not sure how to respond to his words. I settle for something simple.

"I don't have a purpose, not in this life or the next. I'm just the unlucky female that had her name drawn. I'm nothing more than a Victor's daughter," I mumble. Finnick doesn't tell me otherwise, but I know he's resisting the urge to say something meaningful. Instead he smiles it off, shaking his head.

"You should probably get some sleep. Big day waits, doesn't it?" he says drearily. I nod, already on my feet. "I wasn't lying, Serena. I value my words." I turn away, carelessly taking the steps back to my room. I'll never properly be able to respond to his accusing gaze.

When I wake the second time my room is bright, and I notice there's an image of the cool waters of District Four projected on the wall. I try to figure out where it's coming from, but I give up after I realize that only someone from District Three would understand this.

With a fresh shower and my training uniform on, I emerge from my room at ease. Annie smiles when she sees me. Alder is sitting uncomfortably in the chair next to his mother.

"Serena! Did you hear? There's a surprise in training today! Maybe they'll ease up on their analysis." She says all of this excitedly, but with every word my face pales. I know the Capitol would never lessen their punishments, much less would they change anything associated with the Games.

"Mom!" Alder hisses. He must not have wanted me to know. Maybe I underestimated just how untainted he was. Well, to hell with that! I'm glad Annie tells me things, even if I'm not supposed to hear them. She _trusts_ me – and I have a feeling that's something she hasn't had in a long time.

"Where's Finnick?" I ask, changing the subject. Annie's smile doesn't waver.

"He's with Sicarius." When I don't answer, Annie continues. "Mags will be with us shortly. She had to make a quick trip to see the doctors. Finnick said it's nothing to worry about." As if it's possible her eyes get brighter at the mention of her husband. He must've taken my advice and stopped acting so jittery around her.

"If it's all right with you I'm just going to head down early," I say hopefully. She isn't fazed.

"Of course, Serena. Go get Sicarius if you're going to get an early start." Annie doesn't think it's so wrong that I go down, and she is my mentor. The Capitol will just have to deal with it.

I find Sicarius with Finnick. He is okay with going down early, so he tells me he needs to get changed. After about fifteen minutes he comes out dressed for training and a wet head. We walk in sync to elevator, our footsteps the only sound being heard.

I feel like I'm able to trust this boy to an extent, but every time I try to talk to him the words don't come. I feel he has the same inner battle that I do. Finally I can't take it, and I end up blurting out the first thing that pops into my head.

"I think it's brave that you volunteered for that boy." I slap a hand over my mouth. He turns my way, a half smile on his face.

"I think it's brave that you kept yourself together that well," he jokes. The whole district must know I'm sensitive. It brings a smile out of me.

"Thanks," I say coyly. That's the end of our conversation, but I feel that I'm not so awkward around him anymore.

When we arrive down at the Training Center, I realize that my definition of early must be _much_ different than most of the other districts. Sicarius smirks at my astonishment.

"What time did think the training sessions started, Serena?" he chortles. I glare halfheartedly. I don't answer him. Instead I make my way over to the bench where we are to wait. People try to ask me questions – petty ones that won't matter – but I remain still.

District One's tributes have their turn to impress the Gamemakers, the same with districts Two and Three. I'm nervous. I'm not that gifted, nor special. I just hope I have enough to keep them awake.

My name is projected over the speakers, and I rise shakily. Sicarius watches me down tactfully. I feel many pairs of eyes staring into my back before the door that separates us closes. Upon entering I see Calista and her assistant. But they're not the only ones there. No, there's a new face added to the group. He announces himself to be Lycus Kendall. I'm barely registering what's going on. There is one more person here.

My own eyes gaze back at me but with a different face. My brother Tranquil stands before me. Calista's voice rings throughout the room.

"You are to fight until he is dead. That is all. Proceed." Her words are like a hundred tiny stabs to the heart. My lip quivers. I glance back at Tranquil. He isn't moving. Does he want this? I don't know, and my mind is frantic. How am I supposed to kill the person that means the most to me? How could _anyone_ kill someone they love?

I hesitantly pick up the trident that I know is on the other side of the room. Tranquil picks up one similar to mine. Though he is smarter, I am stronger. I forget who he is and what I am required to do. I jab my trident into his shoulder right as he grazes the fabric at my knee. I hear the rip. Somehow this angers me. He shouldn't even be able to touch me.

My trident lodges into his thigh. There. Now he's ripped, too.

He growls. He's beginning to get aggressive. Tranquil almost guts me. My eyes widen as I stagger backward, colliding with the spears. I've long since dropped my trident. I hastily lob one in his direction, not paying attention where it flies. My legs carry me over to the assortment of knives, and I grab as many as I can. I whip around, hurtling knife at his midsection. He escapes its blade, losing his balance. I grunt in frustration. I seize his moment of weakness by making it one of opportunity for myself.

My vision zeroes in on my target. My pulse pounds in my ears. The knife releases at the flick of my wrist. It penetrates his heart. He stops suddenly, dropping to his knees. My eyes widen in realization as to what I've just done.

I look up at the Gamemakers. They each have a satisfied smile on their face. Calista speaks up once again.

"That is all, Miss Lymphis. You may go."

I storm out of the room, wiping the tears from my eyes. I don't give the other tributes time to see my reaction. The rest of the day is spent in my room. I don't even come out for meals. They are brought to my room, but they remain untouched.

That night I cry myself to sleep.

_What have I done?_


	3. Can't Forget

Hunger. Blood. Sweat. Death. Fighting. Words that fly across my mind as Sicarius and I run about the arena. Day one, and already I feel that I'm losing myself. But how did I get here? How have I survived this long? How has no one made a dent in the armor of my sanity? When I woke up this morning, I was terrified. Now I feel like survival is my second nature. What changed that? What made me realize that I'm not incredibly weak? It's hard to think about, but I try. God, I can't forget. I can't let go of who I was.

Annie cried as she hugged me. I couldn't break away from her – partly because she was so strong, but also partly because I didn't have the heart to do it. She let out a ragged breath, finally releasing me.

"You will fight, you hear me? You will fight to come home. You're too important to just die. I need to know you went out fighting, if you go out at all." She was sniffling, but I tried not to notice. It seemed she was even more protective of me after my interview last night. She learned who I really was. All of Panem learned who I was. And, somehow, I felt they'd never forget.

"I'll do my best, Annie. But I'm too small to be a threat. And after training . . . I don't think I'll ever be able to look at myself the way I did before," I said. She folded me in another hug, but I couldn't feel it. I could only think of my brother, Tranquil, the one I killed mercilessly. A new wave of sadness washed over me when he came to mind. I wasn't sure about anything anymore.

Annie nodded. She was visibly shaking, and I didn't know what to do. Before, when I knew what I was doing, when I knew what was right, I would've been able to handle this situation. But now I was lost at sea. I would never solve the mystery. I'd drown trying to solve it.

"Please come out with your head on straight. No one should end up like me," she said, softly stroking my cheek. I had to take a step back.

"Why would you say that? You've been raising a son on your own for the past ten years. I couldn't think of anyone with more courage, especially after everything you faced," I told her forcefully. She needed to know that she wasn't crazy. She was insane to think she was crazy. Annie Cresta was the person I'd looked up to my whole life. Her giving up was like me giving up. I couldn't drag her down with me. "Don't think like me. I'm starting to learn it's not so good. Glad to know I'm finally able to see the truth as my death bed awaits me."

I watched as Annie cried harder. "Don't talk like that," she rasped out. "I think you need to go." It was like she'd turned off her emotions. Maybe she realized I was right. Maybe she couldn't take it anymore. Either way, I couldn't get out of that room faster.

I ran smack into Finnick. Sicarius was next to him. I comprehended how disheveled I must look. I was confused and way overemotional. No way did I look ready to go into an arena to fight to the death.

"Ready to go?" Finnick cocked a questioning brow at me.

I swallowed. "Yes." I nodded. In no way was I ready, but it was obvious I didn't have a choice.

As we boarded the elevator, Finnick began speaking. "I don't know if either of you made plans, but there are no allies. Instead you are linked by district. From the moment you enter the arena, you two will fight as one. You will keep each other alive, and you will be smart about it. There's no arguing with this. Better get to know each other or your fight will be over pretty quickly." We both turned, blinking at the other. The elevator doors slid open, and we stepped out. We faced Finnick, and he gave us a big fake grin. "Good luck," he said in a chipper voice. "You'll need it." I wasn't sure how serious he was being, but I had no time to question it. The second the doors closed we were whisked away to our stylists. I entered my own hovercraft with Moxie, my stylist. She was a bit too cheerful for me, but I still liked her. She didn't cake my face in makeup.

Aboard the hovercraft, someone came and placed a tracker in my arm. Moxie assured me it wasn't anything dangerous, that she'd seen it done hundreds of times. I was sure she was exaggerating, but I wasn't going to question her. Moxie knew what she was talking about – unlike me.

Once we were alone in that little room that held my tube, Moxie's voice came down to a bit above a whisper. "The arena is supposed to be cold. That's why your outfit is so thick," she said. My eyes widened.

"Cold? I've never experienced cold in my life!" I exclaimed.

"Hope you did your research, then," she said with a smirk, fastening a hat on my head. I glared.

"I may just look like some stupid blonde to you, but I was plenty smart where I came from," I snapped.

"I can tell," she replied, busy with a scarf. I huffed in annoyance.

"How cold could it possibly be?" I sighed. Moxie gave me a look, then returned to dressing me up.

"You could die of hypothermia. That's why all of this is important," she answered a short time later. I rolled my eyes.

"But when I'm at the Cornucopia, I'll just grab a pack or two. Odds are that Sicarius will have something as well. None of this is important." I waved my arms around, gesturing to my whole attire. Moxie placed my gloves on a table.

"You're so smart, huh? _I'm_ the one who knows which fabrics will keep you warmest," she quipped.

"Wool," I responded without a second to think. Moxie tilted her head at me. Seconds later she looked away.

"Maybe you know more than I thought," she mumbled. Somehow I felt I wasn't meant to hear, so I ignored her. Moxie added a few more things to me, and I was already overheated. "Time to go," she said as the countdown began. I walked over to the clear tube, stepping inside. I spun in a circle, wondering how they kept this glass so clean.

The tube was ascending before I knew it. My fear was blocked out with confusion. I wasn't getting a blast of cold to the face. Instead I felt something I was more accustomed to. Heat. Humid, dry heat. As soon as the platforms were secure, I flung my hat, and scarf, and gloves to the ground. I unzipped the jacket and the fleece underneath. I was ready. I was prepared. And I was undoubtedly out of my mind.

As the countdown began I whipped around to spot the Cornucopia. It was like they hid it. I looked down once, and I was surprised to see a trident of my size, a throwing knife, and a vial of poison. When the gong sounded I grabbed the items and looked around me. The person closest to me besides Sicarius was Tron. I knew he was much bigger than me, so I darted around Sicarius. I saw the boy from Five and lodged the knife at him. The girl tried to come after me, but Sicarius shot her before she could lay a hair on me.

"I'll look for the Cornucopia, you cover me!" I shouted to him, ripping my knife out of the boy's heart. He nodded.

"I think I saw it through some trees!" he yelled back. Now I nodded.

I dashed in the direction where trees were most prominent. The boy from Two got in my way, so I took my trident and dipped it in the vial. It had to be deadly. The tip punctured right through his stomach. He was down before he could've tried to recover. Sicarius got the boy from Six. The twins from One came at me, but it was too late. I already had both my knife and trident dipped in the dark liquid. I threw the knife at the girl. It grazed her side, but that was all the poison needed to set in. She dropped to the ground. When I struck at the boy with my trident, he dodged it. This frustrated me. The second time I tried harder and it was a success.

"Serena, over there!" Sicarius's voice made its way back to me. He was pointing to a golden horn winking at us in this sweltering heat. We ran as fast as we could, though we both knew no one was trailing us. We eliminated almost half the districts in our search. Sicarius handed me my knife – he must have grabbed it from the ruins and rubble where the girl lay.

There it was. The Cornucopia seemed to be mocking us, stocked with all those goodies. We grabbed two packs each. Others were beginning to arrive, but we were already gone. Now with a belt of knives around my waist, I was sure to be in control. Suddenly I knew I was different, that I had changed. And, from the sick part of my mind, I decided it was for the better.


End file.
